The Love Circle

The first part of this is something I initially journaled during my commute to work a couple weeks ago. The latter part fell into place this morning during my extended reflective time with God.

“Esther, let Me love you.”

Those words from our Triune God have been re-echoing again and again in my mind since my birthday evening. And Paraclete {my favorite name for the Holy Spirit} has been helping me realize that, in a way, I don’t even know how to receive His unconditional love.

So it’s been something I have been praying/meditating about some. This morning it came back to mind again as I was in my prayer closet, trying not to fixate on a request I had read that morning via email. Paraclete took me back, once again, to Jesus’ Valedictory Address {John 13-17} and 1 John.

John 15:9-10 came to mind:

“As the Father loved Me, I also have loved you; abide in My love. If you keep My commandments, you will abide in My life, just as I have kept my Father’s commandments and abide in His love.”

I found myself wishing very much that Jesus hadn’t put that conditional statement in there!!! Because that’s what ends up becoming a trap to me, again & again & again—trying to feel like I have earned or deserve God’s love based on what I DO. It so easily becomes a point of pride and/or legalism. But there’s another critically important part of that verse! “Just as….”

Jesus’ example and His obedience of the Father are to be our model! And He doesn’t obey out of fear or because He is trying to earn God’s love. Jesus obeys because He is in perfect relationship with the Father and because of all the concepts we read about in Ministry in the Image of God: The Trinitarian Shape of Christian Service! {The first book we read here as part of the Servant Teams curriculum – somewhat dense, but really good with lots of practical application too!}

It’s like the heptapod language—all an interwoven circle.*

So Jesus obeys the Father because He loves Him and because They are eternally in perfect relationship {with Paraclete too, of course!!}. So love should be the driving force of our obedience, not fear & torment (1 John 4:18). But why do we love God? The very next verse tells us—because He first loved us (4:19)! And also 4:10—He showed His love for us by sending Jesus to be our propitiation (the conciliation, the act of making God favorably inclined, appeasing Him).

Abba’s love came to me through the death and sacrifice of Jesus. In my prayer closet this morning, Paraclete showed me that when I’m trying to earn/prove myself worthy of God’s love—by serving, going overseas, etc. etc.—I am acting like Jesus’ love & sacrifice were not sufficient…I am minimalizing the greatest act in all of history and acting like my filthy rags of righteous deeds (Isaiah 64:6) are better.

Oh Abba, forgive me for that egregious misconstrued view!!!

So we abide in God’s love by keeping His commandments out of a heart of love for Him, because He first loved us and reconciled us to Himself. See how it’s like a heptapod* circle??!!! Love is the goal, the means, and the catalyst!

And it’s all about You, Abba—it’s not about me or anything I could ever do.

Abba, I don’t know how to practice and apply this! But I know it is foundational and critically important—I know it’s a game changer if this lesson could sink deep into my heart and become my driving force! Again in my prayer closet, Paraclete reminded me that I can’t give what I haven’t received….

{And at that point I arrived at my destination!}

About a month ago, I joined a small accountability group at a local church here. We are going through a book called The Genesis Process together. It’s focused on helping people deal with the root causes behind addictions or other self-destructive coping behaviors. It keeps on bringing me back to this idea:

And then this morning I started working on the fourth process, and this is how it began:

I definitely learned this lesson the hard way in August 2016. That month, two men who were serving as leaders in both the organization and the church each had to resign because of moral shortcomings. The first one was an especially hard blow to me, as I had been welcomed into his home many times by him and his wife.

I remember crying in the staff meeting when his resignation was announced. And then I went home and sat on the floor of my room and sobbed for probably around 10 minutes. Grieving the brokenness of sin. Grieving the pain I was sure his wife was going through. Grieving my own hurt too. Fighting feelings of a guilt too complex to explain without sharing details of other peoples’ stories.

That day I was so tempted to make a vow of sorts—a vow never again to get so close to another family that I would open myself up to that kind of pain. A vow never to trust and admire someone as I had allowed myself to do with him—because such Christian familial love had wounded me deeply.

I thank God that I stopped myself from making that decision. I knew it was the wrong decision—a decision that would let the enemy win. And so I continued to grow in relationship with many other sisters and couples. But that wound still aches when I think of it. I think I allowed that and other things which began developing around the same time to plant a seed of hopelessness in my heart. I did my best to process and forgive….but somehow I think I closed off a little cupboard of bitterness inside my soul.

Fast forward back to today. Later in the morning, as I was outside processing through some other stuff, my mind made its way back to what I had read in The Genesis Process.

I wrote:

Love & wounding—both are always two-way streets. Except for with God. He is the only One who loves perfectly and never wounds unjustly—with the one, all-important exception of Jesus on the cross.

In a strange, miraculous way that only God could plan, that moment in human history was both the most unjust (towards Jesus, who had done nothing wrong), and yet also the most merciful & gracious & loving towards us—we who had broken all the relationships, who have done all the wounding, who deserve nothing but eternal judgment and yet receive nothing but unconditional love. Such beauty & brokenness at the same time!!!

Now a few hours later, those words bring to mind Hebrews 12:1-3:

“Therefore we also, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us lay aside every weight, and the sin which so easily ensnares us, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking unto Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith, who for the joy that was set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame, and has sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. For consider Him who endured such hostility from sinners against Himself, lest you become weary and discouraged in your souls.”

And so I choose to continue opening myself up to love and, yes, even to the risk of human woundedness, because in so doing I am following in the footsteps of the most truly Human person who ever lived—our Savior, Jesus Christ. May His love in and through me glorify and magnify HIS beauty!

*To fully understand this analogy, you have to watch Arrival – it’s an alien film, but I found it to have deep theological undertones looking at it from a Biblical worldview! But to semi-explain the circle bit: Basically in that film, the aliens communicate through a written language made up of circles, with each circle being a phrase/sentence with multiple words...or something like that! See below for an example. The circle is formed by smoke from the heptapod's feet, and so the language is written with foreknowledge of the phrase/sentence as a whole.

Vulnerability, not Pretense

The Church is NOT a good works club, it IS a fellowship of grace! It’s NOT about what we do—period! All we have to do is to receive, openly & vulnerably; to be loved by Jesus. Works-based Christianity does NOT create sustainable faith!

The above paraphrase was the key point of the sermon I heard this morning—a sermon so good I sat through it twice! (I’m attending church with my hostess for the next several months, at Oak Hills Presbyterian Church here on the outskirts of Portland.)

Currently, the church is going through a sermon series on Acts, and this morning’s passage was about 4:32-5:11—the story of the early Church’s lifestyle of radical giving and the death of Ananias and Saphira. Jeremy (the pastor here) made the case that, at root, this passage is not really about money or giving. It’s about a deeper lifestyle choice: Pretense or Vulnerability.

The generous people, including Barnabas, showed their vulnerability by giving up their earthly security for the sake of others – demonstrating that the resurrection of Christ (4:33) had set them free from the self-protective hoarding of resources. The beneficiaries of this generosity also had to practice vulnerability, admitting to their church family that they were facing needs that they couldn’t meet on their own.

The power of Christ created a culture of radical openness and vulnerability for those who found their identity in HIM, rather than in trying to project a false image of themselves to others. Ananias and Saphira, however, made a show of spiritual heroism that was a lie – and for that they were severely punished….by death!

Jeremy talked about the word hypocrite, which comes from the Greek word for actor. In Greek culture, stage actors would wear masks to show their emotions—happy for a joyful scene, sad for a tragic scene, etc. With the masks, they projected what the scene required, while hiding what was really going on underneath.

He concluded his sermon, “the only way to receive grace is by being open and broken, trusting in God’s grace and being real with one another.”

This sermon really struck a chord with me where I am at spiritually right now. I have so very much to be thankful for, so very much to praise God for. But this year, and the past several years before, have each been the successively hardest year of my life. And so I want to share more about that here than I have so far. Not to illicit pity. Definitely not to brag on myself (quite the contrary!). But to testify of God’s Grace.

God has brought the above song to my mind multiple times in the past few months. This is who I want to be. Real and raw, yes, but for the purpose of allowing God to shine His Glory through my brokenness.

As those close to me know, most of this year has been an intense spiritual battle for me. In January I returned to my second home in Uganda, excited for another term…though also with reservations. Before I could even get back into my job at the office, I was hit simultaneously with insomnia, depression, and worse.

For the next six plus months, many days it was a struggle just to get out of bed. It felt like I was constantly fighting a losing battle with hopelessness. After two months with little maintainable progress, I resigned from my position in Uganda, said goodbye to the people who had become my family there, and returned home to Dallas. I’ve become ok over these past months with naming depression as one of my struggles. There were also other struggles I’m still not comfortable naming this publicly.....shame can be a strong enemy. [No physical or emotional harm was maliciously done to me.]

Suffice it to say, the fact that I am currently walking in relationship with God is in itself a testimony to God’s abundant Grace, lavish Love, and constant Pursuit towards me. He did this using so many amazing people both in Uganda, Dallas, and other places who didn’t give up on me…who kept loving me, praying for me, speaking truth to me, and fighting (spiritually) on my behalf. If I started naming names I couldn’t quit…so I won’t start, except to say that my parents are at the top of the list. :)

The fact that a month and a half ago I moved half way across the country, to a place where I personally knew no one; that I am now in an intense program of learning and serving, and that I am {mostly**} flourishing here—that is an unimaginable miracle of Christ’s mercy and transforming power.

When people hear about my life since graduation from college in May of 2013—most of that time spent rooted in the red soil of East Africa—they can quickly and easily tend to put me on a pedestal. I’m here to tell you today, I am NO super hero. I am not applying that title to myself—one well-meaning person has told me that missionaries, me inclusive, are. On the contrary, I am just as flawed and broken as anyone else….if not more so (in the spirit of Paul, expressed in 1 Tim. 1:15). Any good that has come of my life is all God’s Grace.

Yesterday morning, I spent more than three hours journaling…processing…praying…grieving. My Good Shepherd has led me on a road that has been full of both the very good and the very hard in these past five years, since I first knocked on the door labelled “Uganda.” But He has been with me every single step of the way, both on the sunny mountaintops and in the darkest of valleys.

This year’s breakdown didn’t come out of nowhere. It’s seeds were sown from my personality and character flaws…from circumstances and situations which affected me…from my failure to name what I needed and ask for help (at least not until it was too late, humanly speaking)…from organizational and personnel challenges. The pressure really started building in August of 2016…so it was a long time coming.

So that’s my practice at being open and vulnerable. And maybe very few people will take the time to read this. But I process best by writing, and so hopefully composing this blog post will better free my tongue in personal dialogue. Please feel free to ask me questions. Christ’s healing of my heart is finally bringing me to a place of being more willing to speak of these things. But these previous paragraphs are not the whole story.

Here is the “My Story” version:

Hope that wouldn't let go: My Savior never lost a grip on the wheel of my life, even when it looked to me like it was chaotically spinning out of control. And HE has restored my hope in Him, in His time and way.

Love that never gave up: These past three weeks, my Lover has been calling my heart to be willing to receive from Him and from others. Not that I should try to earn or deserve anything, simply to receive…and THEN to give.

Life, but it wasn't mine: “Or do you not know that your body is the temple of the Holy Spirit who is in you, whom you have from God, and you are not your own? For you were bought at a price; therefore glorify God in your body and in your spirit, which are God’s” (1 Cor. 6:19-20).

The grace that is greater than all my sin: If I spoke of God’s Grace—in loving me and redeeming me from sin—for every hour of the rest of my life, I wouldn’t have time to tell it all.

When justice was served: But not to me; to the perfect, sinless Son of God. There are times I want to call “FOUL!” on my life, times I say I wish there had been justice in a given situation. But that’s only because I fail to remember what true justice really demands.

Where mercy wins: Every single day, every breath of my life, is as a result of the mercy of Christ.

The kindness of Jesus that draws me in: The opposite of what I in myself deserve…but He showers His kindness instead.

Victory over the enemy: The victory has already been won!! It’s not my battle to fight—it’s a gift the Christ already waged the war for, that I am simply to allow HIM to apply to and live out in my life.

Freedom that was won for me: Freedom from fear. Freedom from failure. Freedom to be known and to know. To be loved and to love. To be served and to serve. Freedom as a gift from Him, applied by Him, in and through this weak vessel.

Life overcome the grave: Our Savior is RISEN!!! And that resurrection power is at work in each and every one of His children!

This is my story, this is my song,

Praising my Savior all the day long.

One more thing that is finally getting through my thick skull: There WILL be more challenges in my future. More twists & turns in the road. More apparently deep, dark valleys. Maybe even tomorrow. But, Lord help me, when those times come I want to turn more quickly to Your Truth. To root my confidence deeply in You, not in my comfort or things going my way. To say with Mary, “Behold the maidservant of the Lord! Let it be to me according to Your word” (Luke 1:38).

Please join me in praying that for me and, if you dare, maybe for yourself as well.

**Three weeks ago, I heard I had to leave my initial/temporary housing by the end of September. And that I couldn’t move into the house down the street—that I was sure was ideal—because of a logistical detail. My emotions and insecurities proceeded to throw an internal hissy fit. A night of zero sleep followed, and for several days the fear and despair and hopelessness came rolling back over me.

I’m so thankful to our team leaders and my team mates for supporting me through that. And I can now say I’m thankful it happened, because God used it as a catalyst to push me out of the comfortable coasting (from two months of almost all great days) and back onto the road of proactive, intentional healing. Also, in a stroke of divine irony, the new home I moved to, where I initially didn’t want to be, has been an amazing fit and a real gift. So I was fighting God, when of course He knew better all along!!